


Wanderlust

by Novachester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M, creature!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novachester/pseuds/Novachester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Castiel is an explorer who’s only too familiar with sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, and Dean is a creature of the forest who gives him a taste of his own medicine.</p>
<p>Just a cute little verse I like to dabble in. Will hopefully be writing more. c:</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanderlust

“I wouldn’t touch that.”  
  
Castiel startles, drawing his telescopic pointer away from the mushroom he’d been examining. He looks around, but sees no face amongst the trees to match the voice he’d heard. “Excuse me?” He spins around, hearing footsteps, but still he sees nothing. “Who’s there?”  
  
The voice laughs, a sound that carries through the woods like a soft wind, rustling the leaves. Castiel jolts when his pointer is suddenly snatched from his hands, seeming to float and whisk through the air entirely of its own accord.  
  
“What is this, anyhow? Any time one of you outsiders comes here, you have weird things like this to poke and prod,” the voice (male, Castiel thinks) says as the metal rod twists and turns, as if being examined.  
  
Castiel stares with his mouth agape for a long moment before answering. “I-it’s a pointer,” he manages to say, brows furrowed. “You shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you,” he goes on to say, holding his hand out expectantly.  
  
He jumps, withdrawing his hand, when the pointer is aimed sharply at his side satchel.  
  
“Funny thing for you to say,” The voice says. Castiel isn’t sure whether to suspect telekinesis or invisibility. “That’s all you’ve been doing, putting things that don’t belong to you in that strange sack.”  
  
Castiel blinks, looking down at his bag, then back at the pointer, as it remains his only point of reference, and does seem to be where the disembodied voice is coming from. “You’ve been following me?”  
  
There’s a pause, then Castiel swears he hears a shuffle. “For a while,” the creature replies, sounding very nearly sheepish.  
  
Castiel smiles somewhat, crossing his arms. Perhaps he can gain some leeway with this. “It’s unfair that you should be so aware of me, and yet I can’t see you at all.”  
  
“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” the voice responds, and by the way the pointer swirls and tilts, Castiel thinks his posture is being mimicked, leaving him to imagine a humanoid figure, roughly his height, and definitely invisible. “Humans aren’t to know we exist.”  
  
Castiel hums thoughtfully. “But still you chose to speak to me. Why?”  
  
There’s another pause, longer this time. The pointer begins to bounce back and forth, as if the holder is pensive, contemplating the question. “Not sure.”  
  
“Well, I’m going to introduce myself to you. I’ll leave the rest up to your digression,” he says, holding his hand out. “My name is Castiel.”  
  
After a moment of nothing, Castiel sees the pointer shift just slightly, and then he feels a touch to his palm, tentative and exploratory, tracing ticklishly along his palm, then the edges of his fingers, to the back of his hand and his wrist.  
  
He feels appendages tighten around his hand, and then like a ripple in space around his hand, a shape begins to appear, solidifying until Castiel recognizes a hand, shimmering threads weaving together until they become a solid limb, conforming to a fleshy tone.  
  
Castiel watches in awe as the process gradually builds up to a forearm, upper arm, a shoulder, and before long there’s an entire person standing in front of Castiel, clothed in brown leather straps across his chest and torso, along with green trousers that Castiel thinks might be made of silk.  
  
“Dean,” the creature says, and it’s just enough for Castiel to catch a glimpse of sharp canine teeth.  
  
He’s silent for an embarrassingly long time, lips parted as he stares at Dean in a mix of awe and absolute _glee_. He’s been adventuring for years, and while he’s managed to catch snippets here and there of unknown sides of the world, none of it has compared to this.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Castiel says on a sigh, eyes flickering from Dean’s pointed ears, down the strong line of his jaw. While he’s the very definition of an Adonis from head to toe, his eyes are one of his most stunning features, swirling chasms of green and gold that could keep one captivated for hours.  
  
The tips of Dean’s elongated ears flush, the pink trailing down to his cheeks. “Outsiders are strange,” he says, drawing his hand away from Castiel’s. There’s a terrifying moment where Castiel thinks he’s said that wrong thing, that Dean is going to disappear again, but instead he just looks down and continues to fiddle with Castiel’s pointer.  
  
“Are there more of you?” Castiel asks, but that seems to be the wrong thing to say, as Dean turns quickly from bashful to leery, the swirl of his eyes becoming more aggressive, like rolling clouds in a storm.  
  
“Why? Are there more of _you?_ " He asks back, a little defensive.  
  
Castiel raises his hands in an attempt at peace, shaking his head. “No, no, it’s only me, I’ve just…” He licks his lips, lowering his hands slowly. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet someone like you.”   
  
That does the trick, Dean’s shoulders losing all of their tension. His moods are erratic, apparently, but it’s nothing Castiel doesn’t think he can deal with. Dean seems to be considering something as he looks Castiel over, and once he’s made up his mind, he holds his hand back out, just like Castiel had earlier. “Y’wanna see something cool?”  
  
“Yes,” Castiel responds breathlessly, lacking any and all hesitation. The two exchange smiles as Castiel grasps Dean’s hand, not knowing what he’s about to see, but more excited than he’s ever been to find out. Dean gently pulls Castiel forward, and as they walk, the world around them tilts forward, giving Castiel an abrupt sense of vertigo.   
  
He does his best to shake the dizziness off, not wanting to miss a second of it as Dean walks him from one world to the next, those same shimmering threads weaving over the trees and the skies, bringing vibrancy and color the likes of which Castiel has never known into existence.  
  
“Oh my god,” Castiel whispers. He clutches tightly onto Dean’s hand, unable to keep his eyes in one place. The trees have changed to shades of purple and blue, each of them covered in glittering dots that twinkle like stars, creating the illusion of a forest of galaxies. The rocks shift, blinking at Castiel with eyes of their own.  
  
Even Dean has been altered, emerald green leaves and thin vines winding up his arms and along his chest, but what _truly_ steals Castiel’s breath from his lungs are the wings that arch high on Dean’s back, translucent and iridescent, capturing all of the spectacular colors around them and reflecting them right back.  
  
Dean looks self-conscious about the way Castiel is oogling his wings and he folds them a little closer to his back. “They’re mostly just for show, “he says, thumb rubbing back and forth on Castiel’s hand, which he’s still holding securely onto. “I don’t fly.”  
  
“Can you?” Castiel asks, struck by the thought. They don’t exactly _look_ like they could support the weight of a man Dean’s size, paper-thin and delicate in appearance, but science would defy everything about this moment to begin with.  
  
Dean nods. “Can, I just… don’t,” he says, and since it looks to be a sore spot, Castiel leaves it alone.  
  
“Dean, this is… I don’t know what to say. I’ve been waiting for this my entire life,” he says, and it’s true. He’s always been a little strange, preferring to overturn rocks and speak with slugs than engage in the dreary aspects of the life that was expected of him. For him to have all his theories, his entire _life_ validated in one fell swoop—how could a simple “thank you” ever be enough?  
  
Dean scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, smiling. “S’okay, Cas, wanted you to see it.”  
  
It takes Castiel’s overloaded brain a moment to catch up with what Dean’s just said, let alone the sudden nickname. He blinks several times, turning to look at him. “What?”  
  
Now Dean _really_ looked embarrassed, but he looks determined to explain. “You’ve been coming here a long time, right?”  
  
“Yes,” Castiel answers slowly. It’s hard to stay focused when some kind of nymph-like creatures whizzes by Castiel’s head, hummingbird wings carrying it through the air, but he does his best.  
  
“And I’ve lived here a long time,” Dean says, phrasing it like the answer to a question.   
  
It takes a moment, but when Castiel puts together the pieces Dean has handed him, he lets out a soft _oh._ “You’ve been watching me,” he says, a realization.  
  
“For a while,” Dean responds shyly, an echo of their earlier conversation.  
  
Castiel falls into a stunned silence. For as long as he’s been exploring this forest, examining and seeking the world just beyond his perception, he never imagined there would be someone examining _him_.  
  
“Scared?” Dean asks timidly, tilting his head down to catch Castiel’s eye.  
  
Castiel snaps out of his stupor with a soft laugh, shaking his hand. “No, no, I…” He hesitates, looking up to meet Dean’s stare. He smiles, squeezing Dean’s hand. “I would like to see more, if that’s alright with you.”  
  
Dean’s uncertainty vanishes in a flash, replaced by a wide, bright smile. “C’mon, Cas, I’m gonna show you a _real_ adventure,” he says, and of that, Castiel has no doubt.


End file.
